


My Sweet Summer

by AidanChase



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Marauders, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 08:19:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2222052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AidanChase/pseuds/AidanChase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Marauders begin their final year at Hogwarts. Peter Pettigrew is not ready for all the changes this brings--mainly James Potter getting a girlfriend. He'd always known James was in love with Lily but Peter had thought that maybe he could hold onto summer forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Sweet Summer

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I'm so determined to write Peter Pettigrew sympathetically. But I am. This work sprouted from a headcanon I once made jokingly--"What if Peter was in love with James the way Snape was in love with Lily and that's why he turned Death Eater--probably after James and Lily got married."
> 
> The more I thought about it, the more it worked, so here's a sort of pre-cursor to that, as Peter begins to realize he may have lost James forever.

The waning scent of summer drifted in through the open tower window. As Peter watched the sun set on their last summer, marking the beginning of their final year at school together, he thought briefly about unpacking. When the sun was gone completely, he watched Sirius arrange his muggle-items collection—which had, again, grown over the summer, and now included two clocks, one rubber duck, and four elastic bands. Then Sirius opened a book and relaxed into his bed without a word.

Sirius had been a lot better these last two years. In the past, when Sirius came back to school, he looked more like Remus and less like Sirius—not literally, of course. He was always Sirius, with his dark hair and strong jaw and nose. But he had that look Remus got right before a full moon, that haunted look, like there was something inevitable and dreadful looming on the horizon, and it consumed him entirely. And, unlike Remus, it made Sirius moody and irritable and generally unpleasant to be around.

At first, Peter thought it was simply that Sirius hated school. Which, Peter could understand. But it also happened when school had ended, and now it had gone away entirely since Sirius had moved in with James. Sirius looked very much himself now, and the only foul thing he’d said all day was mumble something bitterly about Regulus being a prefect with Remus and James. And even though Sirius had only been able to sit in the car with Peter for most of the trip (since Remus and James had duties to attend to), he had been relatively pleasant. Mellow and distractible, but pleasant.

And now, while Remus and James helped the first years adjust—Peter was sure Remus was making sure all the first years had their pillows fluffed and their night lights set, while James was probably slipping dung bombs under their beds—Sirius was keeping to himself. Which wasn’t unusual. Peter knew Sirius never felt the same way about him that he did about James and Remus. Peter was very aware of the otherness the three of them possessed when he was absent. Even though they all existed as a group of four, the others existed as a three, and Peter and Sirius never existed as a pair. It made nights like tonight very uncomfortable, and Peter had to expect more of them as the year wore on, if James and Remus would have more responsibilities this year.

Just then, James burst through the door, Remus right on his heels.

“Tuck all the firsties into bed and kiss them good night?” Sirius didn’t even glance up from his book. Peter wasn’t even sure his lips moved. Maybe he hadn’t even spoken, because James didn’t pay him any attention.

“You guys will never guess!” he shouted, and Remus shushed him.

Now Sirius looked up—but it was a small look, barely moving his head and mostly just moving his eyes.

“Guess what?” Peter asked, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed so he was closer to the center of the room.

“Guess!” James shouted and flung himself back onto his bed, and pulled his pillow over his face, digging his hands into the crimson pillow case like he was trying to suffocate himself.

“James, quiet down,” Remus repeated and began unpacking his trunk. “You’ll wake everyone, and I don’t think that’s a very good start at being Head Boy.”

James said something into the pillow that Peter couldn’t understand before sitting up, hair wild and eyes bright like he’d just stepped off his broom, or just pulled off his best prank. It was this look Peter liked best—the wild, excitable James, who could get carried away with anything and take just about anyone with him. It was those times that Peter felt most like he was a part of the group, when James swept him up just like everyone else.

Sirius, however, seemed to rapidly be losing patience. “Come on, Potter. We all failed our Divination OWLs, so you’re just going to have to tell us.”

James didn’t need any more prodding. Peter thought that if Sirius had waited even a second longer, James would have burst out with it anyway.

“Lily Evans agreed to go on a date with me!”

Peter wasn’t sure why, but he suddenly felt like he’d eaten too much pudding at dinner. He tried to remember if he had eaten too much pudding, but he wasn’t sure he’d eaten much at all. Not more than usual anyway. He self-consciously wiped at the corner of his mouth with the sleeve of his robe.

Sirius burst out laughing. “Sure you didn’t hit the corner of the Fat Lady’s portrait on the way in? Run into a Memory Charm on the stair case? Because there is no way. No way.” 

“I asked and she said yes,” James answered hotly, clearly offended that his friends weren’t as excited as he was.

Sirius looked at Remus for confirmation, but Remus only shrugged his shoulders. “I wasn’t there.” And he went back to stacking his school books onto the bookshelf beside his bed.

“Congratulations,” Peter finally managed, though he felt like there was an entire chocolate cake sitting in his stomach, which didn’t make any sense, because he hadn’t had any chocolate cake at dinner.

Sirius snorted. “It’s a date, not an engagement. She’ll dump you in a week, garunteed. Maybe she’s only playing you. Ever think of that?”

“She hasn’t for six years, so why would she start now?”

“Girls are creatures,” Sirius shrugged.

“Something wrong with creatures?” Remus asked as he unrolled a length of parchment covered in black ink.

Five years ago, Remus would have paled at Sirius’s remark, and been quiet for the next couple hours, until James and Sirius realized what was amiss and made over-apologies for the comment. Two years ago, Sirius would have paled at Remus’s counter-remark, thinking he had unconsciously offended him and Remus was only beginning to learn how to speak up about it. But now, they’d finally reached a point between the two of them where banter was usual, especially about Remus’s… condition. Remus and Sirius started to talk to each other the way James and Sirius talked to each other. And Peter couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. Why couldn’t he be that way with at least one of them?

“And speaking of,” Remus added, when Sirius only laughed at his comment, “did any of you do Grubbly-Plank’s essay?”

Peter scrambled through his trunk for parchment and quill and he and Remus ended up side-by-side on the floor. For a brief moment, Peter thought that maybe what he and Remus had was enough. That maybe this quiet intimacy and patience that Remus offered him was as good as what James and Sirius had with each other. But while he was fixing his spelling on “acromantula” (which did not have any e’s in it) and “venom” (which only had one), he glanced up at James and Sirius, sitting so close to each other on Sirius’s bed, both poring over the same text and quietly arguing transfiguration theories, he thought that what he had with Remus was awfully unbalanced and he didn’t like it at all. He felt the chocolate cake pull on his stomach again.

Remus followed his gaze and smiled a little—but not at Sirius and James, at Peter—and said quietly, “It’s okay. I get jealous sometimes too.”

Peter wasn’t sure if Remus meant jealous of their brilliance, their charisma, their wealth, or their relationship. Or maybe, like Peter, he meant all of the above. Or maybe—just maybe—like Peter, he meant something much deeper. And as Peter slowly began to accept the pain in his stomach as jealousy, he had to also accept all the feelings and desires of possession that must have preceded it. Feelings he’d been wary to name before, but words crept into his head. Words like, “want,” and “only” and the worst one, the quietest one, “love.”

——

“I’m in love,” James had said their second year, flopped out on his bed, much like he would five years from now, but instead of a pillow pressed over his face, it was pushed against his chest, hands making the same tight fists.

Peter’s hand slipped and the quill nicked his finger. He quickly put it in his mouth.

“You’re enchanted,” Sirius had snorted and continued doodling in the margins of his Transfiguration essay. Either Remus would remind him to vanish them before he handed the paper in, or Sirius would forget and have his essay returned to him with critical marks about presentation.

“No, I’m in love,” James repeated. “In love like Orion and Artemis.”

“Artemis was a frigid bitch and Orion was killed by her.” Sirius snapped, and even Peter noticed the way the word, “Orion,” rolled off Sirius’s tongue like a lead bullet from a pistol.

“Artemis and Orion were very much in love, and just because it was a virgin love doesn’t make it frigid,” Remus said quietly, and added, “Sirius, please don’t forget to vanish your doodles.”

“I will when I’m done,” Sirius muttered, and added another sentence to the bottom of his essay, before going back to add details on the feathers of a hippogriff in the corner.

“Well this isn’t a virgin love,” James said, directing the conversation back to himself, with the obliviousness to everything else that only James could manage. “At least I don’t want it to be. Maybe we’re Apollo and Daphne.”

“Please don’t,” Remus groaned and pressed a hand to his head.

“Romeo and Juliet?”

“Mmm, suicide pact,” Sirius said quietly.

“Fine—whatever, I’m desperately in love, okay?”

“Romeo and Rosaline. Maybe her disdain for you will spare her a terrible fate,” Sirius said and drew long strokes off the tail of the hippogriff. Peter wasn’t really sure what they were supposed to be. Peter also didn’t know how anyone could remember so much of mythology and plays that they hadn’t even had to read for school.

“Please don’t say that,” James groaned. “I won’t live if she can’t love me.”

“Please, stop being overdramatic,” Remus said, and Peter noticed it was a touch irritated. And maybe it had been since the conversation started.

“I’m not,” James protested. “I’m sick in love. Someone tell McGonagall I couldn’t finish my essay and won’t be in class tomorrow because I’m ill.”

“Professor McGonagall,” Remus said, and there was no, ‘please,’ in either his criticism or his voice.

Even Sirius finally looked up with Remus at raised eyebrows. “Alright, mate?”

“Fine,” Remus had said irritably, gotten up, tied off his essay, pulled a bag from under his bed and left their dormitory.

It wouldn’t be for another three months that they learned where Remus went, and what made him so irritable around the full moon. But that night, Peter and Sirius and James, had only stared after Remus, no one knowing him well enough to go after him, yet no one comfortable just letting him go like that. No one until James said, “None of you understand the pain I’m in.” And as he flopped back on the bed, Peter steadily finished his essay, hoping Remus would be back in time to help him edit, having no idea that Remus would be spending the night in the hospital, while Madam Pomfrey tried to bring down his fever and alleviate his aches as best as her magic and potions allowed.

——

“I’m fine,” Remus protested when Sirius had shoved a plate of breakfast in front of him.

“You look like Nearly Headless Nick and the Bloody Baron had an unholy bloodless offspring,” Sirius said. “Eat.”

Remus nibbled at the toast while Peter re-read his essay on vampires for third-year Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Remus shoved aside the toast and reached for Peter’s essay, which Peter gratefully turned over. He’d been afraid to ask. Remus looked so awful after this last transformation. And Sirius gave Peter a dirty protective look, like Peter was the one who had asked Remus.

Sirius grunted, and Peter looked to James, who gave Sirius a hard glare, and Peter swelled with gratitude and pride that James was defending him. He realized now that grunt probably came because James kicked Sirius under the table. Peter inched just a little closer to James and leaned in, waiting for Remus’s verdict.

“Back to the problem at hand,” Sirius said from the corner of his mouth, voice slow and lazy, like he couldn’t bother taking the effort to speak, and thought he kept eye contact with James, everyone knew he was talking about Remus, “and the matter we discussed the other night.”

Remus looked quickly between James and Sirius. “Don’t tell me you’re in another fight with Severus—“

“Snivelly is busy nursing other wounds,” Sirius said with a wave of his hand, “that are not our fault—not entirely.” There was a smile on the corner of his mouth that said he had a secret hand in something, but Peter couldn’t begin to guess what that was. Sirius operated outside their group of friends too often for them to keep track of him all the time. Sometimes he took James with him, but more often than not, James insisted on dragging them all into it, which meant that Remus would often try to drag them out of it. Leaving Peter happy to follow the stronger tug, and leaving Sirius to often act without consulting.

“Sirius, what did you—“ Remus started, but Sirius gently put his hand over Remus’s face—literally, just palm to face and maintained eye contact with James.

“Well, James, are we going to ask what Remus thinks of it?”

James looked between Sirius and Remus and Peter before shrugging helplessly. “It’s your idea. And I don’t think it’s a bad one I just think it’s an impossible one.”

“Marauders don’t believe in words like impossible.”

“I wish you wouldn’t use that nickname,” Remus said, his voice muffled by Sirius’s palm.

Sirius dropped his hand from Remus’s face and leaned in closely. All the others leaned in just as close, so their heads were nearly touching over the center of the table. Peter was careful not to put his elbow in his porridge.

“We become Animagi, go with you, and then you don’t have to keep hurting yourself and coming back like—well, like this.”

Remus pulled out of the circle and laughed loudly. On the plus side, Peter thought this was the most they’d seen Remus laugh so shortly after the full moon. There were even tears in his eyes.

James gestured at Remus and said, “See? That’s exactly what I said.”

Remus finally calmed down enough as they gathered their bags and returned Peter’s edited essay to say, “Honestly, Sirius, apart from it being awfully dangerous and foolish there’s no way you could manage it.”

“James and I have top marks in transfiguration,” Sirius said adamantly. “We could manage it. Give me one year and I’ll have it down.”

Remus only laughed again and leaned against Peter for support. Peter didn’t mind, knowing his friend was probably weak enough from blood loss and the intense bouts of laughter weren’t helping.

“Tell you what,” Remus said as he tried to stand on his own, but when he faltered, Peter was still there to catch him. “If you can manage it, I guess you deserve what it gets you. But—“ he quickly added as Sirius’s face lit up, “you have to all manage it. You and James both, and Peter too. It’s the only way I’ll let you come with.”

Sirius’s face went dark, then a strange new light filled his grey eyes. “Fine. Peter, consider me your official Transfiguration tutor.”

“I think I like Remus just fine,” Peter said quietly as he helped Remus to their shared desk in Charms class.

“Remus goes too easy on you. I’ll have you up to Animagi level in no time.”

Peter did not think any of that sentence sounded appealing, and he was grateful that James suddenly changed the subject as the classroom started to fill, and long red hair flew past them, taking a seat in the front of the classroom.

“Let’s not bother talking about secret plans in public that are years away from fruition,” James said with one eyebrow raised, head turned towards his friends, but eyes on the front of the classroom, “and instead, help me find a way to get Evans to go with me on our trip to Hogsmeade next week.”

——

“Aren’t we going together?” Peter asked, brow furrowed and lips puckered in the pout his mother always told him would get stuck on his face if he kept eating sour candies.

Sirius shrugged his shoulders lazily, still lounging on his bed, not even remotely close to being dressed to go out.

“James is going with Lily. It’s a date. A real date,” Remus explained.

Not like the last few dates—not like their picnic on the edge of the Forbidden Forest that Sirius, Remus, and Peter had crashed. Not like the walk along the moonlit edge of the Black Lake that Sirius had invited himself to. Not like a required patrol of the castle corridors that James had tried to make into a date while Lily insisted they keep their duties as Head Boy and Head Girl separate from building a romantic relationship.

Peter felt his chest tighten at the thought of romance. It was only another moment before he realized it wasn’t romance that bothered him, but actually Lily and James’s romance. And that hurt in his stomach—that jealousy—flared up again.

“Well why can’t we go together?” He knew it was nearly a whine. He knew that he was only a few steps away from a full-on-tantrum that was neither Sirius nor Remus’s fault, so he held it back. There was no reason to take this out on them.

“Sirius wants to stay in,” Remus shrugged. “I promised a group of third-years I’d show them around.”

“Third-year girls,” Sirius added.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Remus said. “No third-year girl is going to find me attractive.”

Again, Sirius snorted. “You’re delicate, whispy, distracted, and intellectual.”

“And I look like this.” Remus said it very matter-of-factly (which Peter had learned meant he was veiling something much deeper) and he tapped his nose. Or more accurately, the jagged scars that ran across his nose. The ones that had appeared halfway through first year, that Sirius had harassed Remus about for days, before finally hexing one of the Lestrange brothers out of desperation, and hoping his vengeance was on target.

“Are you kidding? That’s what makes you look like you have a tragic past, a rough and untamable side that makes you that much more attractive. Honestly, Moony, for the smart one, you’re dense about women.”

“And you’re an expert.”

“Grew up with three girl cousins, didn’t I? One boy-crazy, one baby-crazy, and one just plain crazy. I know enough.”

“Well, I’m going to take some very sensible third-years down to Hogsmeade and show them around like a responsible Prefect and it won’t be anything like what you think it is.”

“Sensible and third-years don’t go together,” Sirius laughed and got to his feet. “Guess I’d better go with you or you’ll get eaten alive by teenage girls.”

Peter did not at all think that going to Hogsmeade with teenage girls sounded like a good idea, even if Remus and Sirius were there. Because he knew exactly how it would go. He knew that Remus would do everything in his power to be responsible, to show them the highlights of Hogsmeade and what to avoid, and Sirius would follow with sarcastic remarks, both encouraging and discouraging the third year girls, and overall, completely consuming their attention. And Peter would tag along, forgotten, mostly. Maybe Remus would remember him when Remus wasn’t too busy trying to babysit Sirius. Maybe.

So when they got into Hogsmeade, after enduring the walk with the girls who never stopped talking—Peter didn’t remember girls having voices so high-pitched—he quietly excused himself from the group and helped himself to a butter beer. He sat down at a barstool and watched the crowds pass by outside. There were lots of students—most of them in their third or fourth year—and so the two tall seventh years stood out in the crowd. Or maybe they just stood out to Peter.

Tall-dark-and-glasses was walking with tall-fair-and-long-red-hair and Peter felt his stomach twist at the way they were laughing. There wasn’t anything exceptional about the two of them. Peter noticed they weren’t even holding hands (small victory), but he still felt something intimate about their laughter. It wasn’t quiet or secret. It was loud, and spread through the walls of Hogsmeade, carried on the gentle winter wind. To all the other patrons it blended in with the sound of usual chatter, but to Peter it stood out like church bells at a funeral. He found himself abandoning his butter beer to follow them.

Peter wasn’t very good at stalking or secrecy. Not the way Sirius and James could be, even without the help of an invisibility cloak. But Peter knew how to be small.

——

“Oh my god, he did it,” James breathed.

Sirius whooped with laughter and Peter looked up at his very large, very tall friends and squeaked out his excitement.

He returned to normal with a wide grin on his face and Sirius clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s perfect! You’re so little, you can run right past the Whomping Willow and stun it for us!”

Remus was the only one who didn’t look excited as Peter returned to his usual form as a boy and not a rat. He sat down on the edge of his bed and put his head in his hands.

“You’re really doing it,” he mumbled into his hands.

“Of course we are,” Sirius laughed. “It’ll be fun, and you’ll come back without any broken bones for starters.”

Remus looked as pale as his scars when he pulled his hands from his face. “But what if I bite one of you?”

James and Sirius exchanged a glance and shrugged.

“I imagine nothing,” James said. “Werewolf bites only affect humans, right? We won’t really be human.”

“You don’t know that,” Remus said weakly. “You have no idea what will happen.”

——

“I have no idea what you’re doing differently,” Madam Pomfrey said, puzzled and with her hands planted firmly on her hips. “But at least it’s working.”

Remus looked up at her shyly and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I’m just finally adjusting.”

“Hm.” She did not seem to believe him, and she turned to Peter, James, and Sirius, who were crowded around Remus’s bed. “The three of you may sit for an hour, but you run off to class immediately after. I’ll have breakfast sent up. And next time, wait until after the sun has risen, won’t you?” she said sternly and left, taking the bottle of Pepper-Up potion with her.

Usually Remus came out of his transformations looking like he’d met the wrong end of a bludger. But these last few months he’d come back with a few scratches that were more from trees than claws, and one time he’d scraped up his knee. But Madam Pomfrey healed everything quickly and gave him something for his aches. He was back to class the next day easily, and if he could convince her, he’d join them for evening classes.

“I don’t think I’d be able to pass my OWLs without you guys,” Remus murmured quietly and settled back into his pillows.

Sirius snorted and tossed a wrapped box onto the bed. “Now is not the time to be thinking about exams. Happy belated birthday. I told you I was working on your present. Took me a while to hunt it down.”

Remus peeled back last week’s issue of the Daily Prophet to reveal a book with a rather boring cover. Solid black with silver lettering, titled, “Hairy Snout, Human Heart,” by Anonymous.

“I read it already,” Sirius confessed. “Got curious. Thought you might like to, I don’t know, know you’re not alone.”

Peter wasn’t entirely sure what the book was, but Remus was touching it like Sirius had given him the Queen’s jewels.

“May I borrow it?” James asked. “When you’re done, of course.”

Remus smiled up at them—a gentle smile, full of so much. Peter tried to figure out everything on Remus’s face: gratitude, joy, disbelief, and something else that Peter couldn’t describe, but understood very well. It was the feeling he got when they asked him to run down to stun the Whomping Willow. It was the feeling he got when Sirius squeezed his shoulder, or when James smiled at him. It was the wonderful feeling of not feeling alone.

——

Peter had never felt more alone in his life. Not in first year, when James and Sirius left him out of their best pranks for fear he’d mess it up. Not in third year, when Remus had made them swear to all be Animagi, knowing Peter could never measure up to it. And not in sixth year when James had accidentally left him in the Forbidden Forest, forgetting that Peter was much slower than the rest of them with his short rat legs.

And now he felt far too much loneliness for his small rat body to contain and turned back into a young man on the edge of Hogsmeade, in a small valley, just outside the shrieking shack.

They had actually kissed. Actually actually for real really kissed. James and Lily Evans actually kissed. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Peter pressed a fistful of snow to his head but still he couldn’t think about anything else but, “They kissed.”

He hadn’t thought it would hurt this much. He hadn’t realized how much he was in love. He hadn’t realized just how much those smiles mattered to him.

What used to be a stomach ache now felt like a gaping hole that was sucking in everything and eventually he’d get sucked in with it. He didn’t know what to do and he had no one to talk to. So Peter sat down in the snow and cried.

It was a while before he heard voices carrying over the small valley.

Peter looked up through bleary eyes and for the briefest of moments thought Remus and Sirius had come to find him. But then he wiped his tears away and saw that it was actually Regulus Black and Barty Crouch who were walking down the path. Peter's first instinct was to hide but a bitter thought crossed his mind that he should just sit and wait. His friends wouldn't care if he came back from Hogsmeade sporting a tentacle beard or with shoes that nipped at his feet every time he took a step. They'd laugh at him like they always did and maybe James wouldn't even notice in the first place if he was too busy looking at Evan’s stupid big green eyes.

As Regulus and Barty came up the path towards the shrieking shack, they were whispering quietly, excitedly. Peter didn't know either boy well, only that Regulus was a sixth-year Slytherin prefect, Sirius’s brother, and he could personally vouch that Regulus had a talent for sneaky hexes that were hard to counter, and Sirius had said more than once that Regulus was good with Unforgivable Curses--said it ran in the family--though Peter had never seen him use one.

Barty, on the other hand, was always practicing his Unforgivables. Peter knew that from experience, though the last Cruciatus curse Barty had thrown their way was about as dangerous as a tiny dog--bigger bark and smaller bite. But that was a year ago. Today Barty looked like he had a new dark glint in his eye, like he was ready to try out an Avada Kedavra, just to see what would happen.

Even though Regulus had the same facial features that made up Sirius's carefree and reckless profile, he wore it the way Remus might--pensive and observing before deciding to act. Barty had the same dusty blonde bangs and sharp nose that Remus had, but his shoulders sagged like Sirius's, and his eyes darted around the wood like he was constantly looking for something.

Well Peter seemed to fit whatever it was he wanted. Barty pointed in his direction, and though Regulus shook his head and tried to pull Barty back up the path, Barty would not be swayed.

Again, Peter thought he should run. Instead he gripped his wand firmly in his hand.

He heard Barty shout, "Hey, what do you think you're doing down here?”

"Sitting," Peter answered evenly. He may not have James or Sirius's sharp wit, but he'd learned that basic answers could at least pass for cleverness.

At the least, it made Barty's twitchy eyes darken. "Well you're sitting in our spot."

"Sorry," Peter said without moving.

"It's not really ours, Barty. Come on, let's get out of here," and again, Regulus tried to pull Barty away.

"What? Scared your brother will pop out and hex us? Like he's just waiting here as bait?"

Peter only wished that were true. It would be far more interesting than his current circumstance.

"I don't have a brother," Regulus answered sharply. But there was something else there, something hurt. 

Peter wasn't smart, but he was an observer. He noticed things about people. He noticed when Sirius would lie about where his knowledge of Unforgiveables came from. He noticed when Remus stopped eating before the full moon. And he noticed all of James's nervous ticks--his glances to his friends that begged for approval and agreement, the way he ran his hand through his hair not just because it looked cool but because he was too worried about if he didn't, the way his eyes lit up after a good Quidditch match, the way he smelled like summer even in the dead of winter--

"I said get out of our spot," Barty spat, and Peter was thrust back into the present, where Barty's wand was drawn. Regulus hadn't pulled his out yet, but his hand was in his pocket.

Peter tightened his numb fingers around his own wand. "Just leave me alone."

"Make us," Barty said with a mocking tone that screamed "first year." Peter almost wanted to laugh.

"This isn't worth it," Regulus said quietly, and even though he was older and had authority as a prefect, Peter could tell he had no control over what Barty did. And again, he thought of Remus and Sirius, and the way Remus was always trying to keep Sirius from hexing Snape, but never really succeeding. 

"You want to be a perfect little prefect, then fine. I'm going to try out a new hex or two."

"Barty, don't--"

But as Barty raised his wand, Peter raised his.

——

“Lumos,” James whispered, and suddenly Peter could see the entire library laid out before them. The path to the library had been easy—James and Peter both had it memorized, and anyway, they had the map to let them know where they were at any given moment, and which turns were approaching.

James pressed the tip of his wand to the unfolded parchment and inspected their names. “We’re clear for now,” he whispered, and pulled the Invisibility Cloak off of them.

Peter didn’t know how to explain it, but he suddenly felt like he was coming up for air after being under for a very long time. But the relief part wasn’t right. Maybe it was like waking up from a dream, but you weren’t quite ready to go to class, even though you’d had a good sleep. He felt at the same time both refreshed and wanting to go back.

He wanted to smell summer again, he thought, as James walked down one of the aisles of books and pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket.

“Thanks for coming with,” James whispered. “Don’t know what Sirius is so fussy about tonight.”

“I’m kind of nervous about OWLs too,” Peter whispered back, and jogged lightly (as lightly as he could manage) to catch up with James.

“But you need to be,” James said and adjusted his glasses. He squinted at the paper again. “You need to study and get good sleep, but Sirius doesn’t. At least, he doesn’t usually care to.”

Peter wasn’t sure if he should be stung by that comment or not.

James pulled a book off the shelf and carried it over to a nearby desk. He thumbed through it for a moment before setting it down with a dramatic, “Aha!” Peter scurried over to see.

“I told Sirius Tentaclifors was a real spell. He told me it was rubbish. Guess what I’ll be using on Snivelly next time,” James laughed.

Peter had to stand on tiptoe to see around James’s shoulder, even though James was hunched over the book. “I thought our Transfiguration OWLs would be on Vanishing spells.”

“Oh, I’m sure they will be,” James shrugged and closed the book. “But I thought I’d settle this argument once and for all.”

“It couldn’t wait until morning?”

James laughed. “You sound like Remus.”

“Someone should if Remus is going to be in the hospital all night again.”

James shook his head. “I told him not to stress about exams. I told him it would make things worse. And now he’ll just be more stressed about studying time lost, and if he’ll be better enough for the exams tomorrow.”

“Telling him not to stress doesn’t make it easier to not stress,” Peter said and picked up the map James had left on the table.

James hesitated at the bookshelf, hand still on the spine of the book he’d just replaced and tipped his head at Peter. He looked about to say something, but then quietly shook his head and unfurled the Invisibility Cloak.

“Shall we make a stop by the kitchen for study break snacks? I’m sure there are plenty of other fifth years up all night studying.”

“Sure.” Not that Peter would ever have objected to any of James’s suggestions, but he was especially keen on the kitchen. Even if the house elves unnerved him a bit.

James waited until Peter was nearly pressed up against him, then unfurled the cloak, and suddenly Peter was engulfed in the scent of summer.

——

The train platform was hot and Peter was anxious to get out of his robes as soon as they got on the train. He was, for once, at the front of the group, and Remus was close behind him. James was, oddly, trailing behind.

Even though their luggage was taken to the train separately, James had his broom clutched in one hand and his owl cage in the other, like he’d forgotten to leave them with his trunk. He certainly looked very forgetful and unsure of what was happening as he followed Sirius following Remus following Peter into the last car on the train. It wasn’t until he sat down that he seemed to be aware he was holding anything at all. He twisted his mouth at no one—except maybe himself—and stuffed his broom under the seat.

“Are you going to be alright?” Remus finally asked.

Peter had meant to ask, but he was too afraid of the answer. He didn’t like James like this. Where was all of James’s excitement about summer? Their last summer before they graduated. It had to be special. They should’ve been making plans about it, but he couldn’t make himself be the one to bring it up.

“Oh,” James said, suddenly aware he was not alone. “Yes. I’m alright.” He adjusted his glasses and ran his hand back through his hair.

“You’re fine,” Sirius said with a small smile at James, and James nodded, though he didn’t seem too confident about it.

It made Peter very unsettled. Like someone had ripped a rug out from beneath his feet.

“I promise I won’t let the house get too quiet,” Sirius tried. “And Remus and Peter will come over, of course. And there’s the Quidditch World Cup coming up.”

James only nodded again.

“James—“ Remus said quietly, “—I know you haven’t cried yet, and you know it’s okay if—“

“It wouldn’t bring them back,” James said, his voice suddenly very solid, unlike the distant way he’d been speaking in until now.

Peter shifted uncomfortably. It was one thing to have a moody Sirius in the train car. That was perfectly normal. It was an entirely different thing to have a moody and unpredictable James. Peter couldn’t understand it. Of course, he understood the basics of it—It was the first time James was going home since his parents died. But Peter couldn’t rationalize this James in front of him with the James he’d known for six years. They didn’t connect.

James had always been summer, and suddenly it was like he was losing his best friend to winter.

——

Peter was freezing when he finally got back to the dorm. Well, parts of him were freezing. Other parts were completely numb and felt like they were swollen. He kept knocking into corners with his right shoulder, because he couldn’t seem to remember how big it actually was.

Barty Crouch had tried out a Cruciatus Curse again. But it still wasn’t too good. Or maybe Peter’s Protego was getting better. Either way, it had left him with a numb sensation all over, that lingered in certain places even after Regulus Black had managed to wrestle Barty’s wand away.

Peter had been too numb to transfigure himself, so he’d been forced to stumble back full-bodied to the castle. But he’d also been far too embarrassed to find Remus or Sirius and ask for help. So he’d taken one of the secret passages back to Hogwarts and arrived very late, when most of the students were in bed. He was sure his friends would still be awake, probably listening to every intimate detail of James’s date with Lily. That was not a conversation he wanted to go back for.

So he stopped by Madam Pomfrey’s and told her he’d tried to use a spell to turn a rose into an ice cube in practice for his N.E.W.T.s, and something had gone terribly wrong. She didn’t question his story and set about restoring feeling into his shoulder. She got everything working again except for one finger she couldn’t seem to set right.

Peter could live with that.

He slipped into the common room as quietly as he could. It was empty for once. He only hoped the dormitory was just as quiet.

When he slowly pushed the door open (there were no creaks—the Marauders had gotten rid of those in second year)—and tiptoed inside, past everyone’s beds. Remus’s curtains were drawn and Sirius’s were wide open. Sirius was sprawled on top of his covers like he’d fallen asleep before he could get all the way into bed.

James’s curtains were drawn and Peter slunk by them into the washroom.

He rinsed off, grateful for the warm water that he could actually feel, and pinched his finger, just to check. Still dull.

He changed into his night clothes and crawled into bed. He was just tucking himself under the covers when he heard the sound of metal hooks sliding over the curtain rod.

“Pete? That you?” James whispered.

Peter almost didn’t answer. But then James would’ve turned the lights on and everyone would’ve been awake and he didn’t want that at all so he said quietly, “Yeah.”

Then he felt an extra weight on his mattress and suddenly James was right next to him.

“You alright?”

“‘M fine.”

“Remus and Sirius said you wandered off in Hogsmeade. You’re only just getting back?”

“I got lost,” he said. The words came easily, especially for the first lie he’d ever told to James Potter.

“Oh.” James thought this was acceptable, then he drew the curtains around Peter’s bed.

“Lumos,” he said quietly, and Peter’s bed was lit up apart from the rest of the room. Peter sat up against his headboard and James sat cross-legged on the other side of the bed.

“I just wanted to make sure….” James paused, and Peter could see him rearranging words in his head, the way Remus would when he had to explain a difficult Transfiguration theorem. “Peter, you know that just because I’m dating Lily doesn’t mean we’re not friends, right?”

“I know,” Peter said, even though his body suddenly felt very numb. He couldn’t feel any of his fingers, and his head started to swim like he’d had a full bottle of fire whiskey in one gulp.

“Good. I just—Remus said you seemed upset about it, so I wanted to talk to you. Sirius said it was probably nothing, but—I thought—well, it couldn’t hurt anything. If you want to talk about it, you can.”

“Not really,” Peter said quietly, and his lips tingled as he said it, the numbness spreading to every part of his body.

“Well—okay. I want you guys to be friends with Lils too, you know. I couldn’t stand it if we all didn’t get along. Next time we’ll all go. All five of us.”

“Sure.” Peter felt like he was going to throw up what little he’d eaten that day.

If James was suspicious of Peter’s one-word answers, he didn’t show it. He only nodded once, whispered, “Nox,” and climbed out of Peter’s bed.

Peter wondered if he should go see Madam Pomfrey and tell her he was feeling worse. But something else told him it was simply summer leaving. Winter had moved in and summer wasn’t going to be coming back.


End file.
